


Bog Boyfriends

by thudworm



Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2020 [15]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Bog boyfriends, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M, heart troubles, hydra (mythical creature), swamp creature Bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thudworm/pseuds/thudworm
Summary: Tony has returned to the Stark Estate 20 years after the deaths of his parents.  He's searching for a cure to his heart troubles following Obie's betrayal, but he finds more than he was expected hiding in the swamp.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619530
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	1. AP2- Grief

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Bog Boyfriends  
> Collaborator Name: @thudworm  
> Card Number: 3093  
> Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012576   
> Square Filled: AP2- Grief (Chapter 1)  
>  T4- Amnesia (Chapter 2)  
>  R1- Supernatural (Chapter 3)  
> Ship/Main Pairing: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes  
> Rating: Teen  
> Major Tags: swamp creature Bucky, canonical character death, heart troubles  
> Summary: Tony has returned to the Stark Estate 20 years after the deaths of his parents. He's searching for a cure to his heart troubles following Obie's betrayal, but he finds more than he was expected hiding in the swamp.   
> Word Count: 1,662 (Chapter 1)  
>  1,936 (Chapter 2)  
>  929 (Chapter 3)

It had been more than twenty years since Tony last looked upon the Stark Estate, and being forced to return to it somehow felt like even more of a nightmare than the series of terrible events that the past year had consisted of. He had sworn to himself then that there was no force on Earth that could compel him to return, but obviously he hadn’t counted on fate having such a twisted sense of humour. 

The mansion and grounds show every one of the twenty years they’ve seen left vacant for, abandoned in the wake of Howard and Maria’s passing. Tony had been the unfortunate one to discover their bodies, and despite how absurd it seemed, it was apparent to him that his parents had been somehow drowned in their beds. Several years before there had been an unfortunate accident involving a boy of about Tony’s age while he was shadowing his father overseeing Stark Industries supplies being unloaded from the ships, and the state of his parents was familiar to that experience. Their hair and faces had been damp, but without any trace of water around the rest of the room. Bedclothes, mattress, floor- all dry. 

Their deaths had been ruled as due to natural causes- despite all evidence to the contrary. 

But no matter how he pushed, threatened, or pleaded, Tony had not been able to convince the police or the coroner to investigate any further. Though there had been no love lost between Howard and his son, Tony had been close to his mother, and so the thought of remaining in the house where his parents died, when he had no clear answers, was more than he could bear. As soon as the investigation had been declared completed and their assets distributed as per their wills, Tony had immediately made other arrangements for himself and not once looked back. 

Tony had even gone as far as relocating the main offices of Stark Industries away from Manhattan to Malibu. 

The house and grounds were left to fall into ruin, as Tony was unable to the thought of arranging for maintenance. Any attempts by his friends or family associates to push him into assigning the responsibility to a hired third party were met with anger. At the time he justified his reaction to anyone who asked by saying it seemed a pointless waste to keep the house as a monument, but lying to himself had never been his strong point. A more accurate motivation would have been that Tony did not want the estate to look like nothing had happened, as though they were still living there. He had needed the outside of the house to resemble the ugliness of what had happened inside. 

The one directive Tony had been forced to give regarded Howard’s grand plans for the massive swamp at the back of the estate. Howard had long complained about the uselessness of that section of the grounds, and shortly before he died (been murdered), he had finally begun to make arrangements to drain the swamp because he planned to use the reclaimed land to construct a weapons range. The workers Howard had hired were insistent they receive an immediate answer, so Tony had simply snapped at them they could take the money and fuck off, but consider the bridge thouroughly burned- they would never be hired for any Stark project in the future. 

Tony supposed that whoever was in charge of the universe clearly had a rather perverse sense of irony. It was fortunate he had cancelled Howard’s plans for the swamp, because it was the only hope he had of fixing his current predicament- which was the end of a long chain of events set into motion by Howard’s death in the first place. 

But now wasn’t the time to get caught up in maudlin thoughts. There was far too much work to be done to get the house in a state fit for occupation for the first time in twenty years. It was also going to take many long, long evenings to sort through the business’ paperwork and accounts to determine just how badly Stane had been screwing him, and for how long. 

When he had announced his intention to relocate back to Manhattan Tony had expected his friends to try to talk him out of it, but instead Jarvis, Rhodey, and Pepper had immediately set about making the necessary arrangements. Not only for Tony and the company, but to move themselves along with him. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve such loyalty from his friends, especially when he had refused to explain to them just why he had to move back to the old house. 

There was no point in worrying them by telling them the full extent of what Stane’s betrayal had done to him. Either he’ll find the plant he needs to save his life and everything will be fine, or he won’t. And if he doesn’t, or it doesn’t work, it wouldn’t make a difference to things to tell them now. The only thing that would change is how his friends would react to him. The last thing he wanted, if his time was limited, was to be treated with kid gloves. 

His unwillingness to explain was starting to cause him some serious hassle, however. The first weeks after moving in had had Tony, Rhodey, and Pepper occupied from morning to night dealing with the preliminaries of reestablishing the company back in Manhattan, and Tony also was needed to oversee Jarvis hiring a group of staff to maintain the house. Now, three weeks on, things were slowly getting back on track. Which should have given Tony a few hours here and there to begin searching through the swamp for the specific type of brookweed he had been told could save his life, except he hadn’t taken into account how protective his friends would be. 

Over dinner one night he had, in vague terms, mentioned wanting to explore the swamp. Immediately, both Rhodey and Pepper had volunteered to accompany him, and neither seemed inclined to accept no as an answer. “You should let at least one of us come with you. You know what the doctors said- you stress that heart of yours too much it will give out.” 

This was exactly why Tony had avoided telling them the true extent of the damage Stane’s betrayal had done to him physically. Even if he did nothing to strain himself, he had only a matter of months before it gave out anyway. They were already so overprotective of him, if they knew he would never be allowed to get out of bed, much less traipse around the grounds. 

Tony sighed. “I just really feel like this is something I need to do by myself. That’s where Howard’s last project was going to be built, and I want to see what’s out there.”

Tony felt terrible about lying to his friends, but it worked. Mentioning Howard had both of them switching from argumentative to sombre.

“Okay, Tony. We understand. You need to work through your feelings, and you want privacy,” Pepper said. 

“But doing it alone doesn’t mean you have no backup out there,” Rhodey said. “You need to tell us when you plan on going out there, and if you’re not back after poking around for an hour well come looking.” 

Now, twenty minutes into his first day searching for the plant, Tony was beginning to wonder if it was really worth it. It was freezing cold, his boots were soaked through, and he had scratched the hell out of his arms and hands when he tripped over a rock. It would definitely be easier to just give up and let things take their course, rather than traipsing around a fucking swamp searching for the impossible. 

After everything with Obie had been dealt with, Tony had sought advice from healers and doctors from all over the country. Each one had given him the same bad news- there was nothing they could do for him, except ease his pain when the time came. But Tony was not prepared to give up that easily. Eventually, after being told it was impossible by everyone he tried, he had found the Scarlet Witch. Wanda had told him there was only one possibility she knew of, and there were no guarantees it would work even if he found it. Which was, apparently, a massive if. The plant he needed to find was rare- so rare that Wanda had never seen it herself. 

“How do I know it even exists, that you’re not just sending me on a wild goose chase?” Tony had asked.

“Because,” Wanda had answered, “my mentor taught me everything she knew. Besides, even if I am wrong, what do you have to lose?”

Tony hadn’t had a good answer to that.

“Many years ago, my mentor was approached by a man looking to save his friend. She sent him in search of the same plant 

“Did it work? Did his friend survive?” Tony had asked, desperately. 

Wanda had given him a sad smile. “I do not know what became of his friend, because the man never returned from his search. Believe me when I say this will not be an easy task. There are more than bugs and fish living in that swamp, and they do not willingly permit outsiders to invade their space.”

It was with that warning echoing in his ears that Tony slipped over, again. The first time he’d tripped he’d learned the hard way it was next to impossible to gain a stable footing without something to use as leverage. Tony shifted into a seated position, and looked around for a convenient branch or log he could use to help him regain his footing, but what he saw instead had him frozen where he sat. Lurking in the tall grass there was a man-shaped creature staring back at him. 


	2. T4- Amnesia

_ 70 Years Ago _

There had been plenty of bad winters before. Ones where Steve managed to catch every damn cough and flu going around, twice. But this year winter was particularly brutal. Steve had started coughing three weeks ago, and at first it had seemed like any other illness. A few miserable days of feeling like he’d been trampled by a horse, and Bucky being kept awake by his chest rattling cough, followed by slow improvement as Steve recovered. 

But Steve was only getting worse, not better. Bucky decided enough was enough, and dragged Steve to see the one healer in their little town of Brooklyn. The advice she had given was not worth the cost of her services- it wasn’t their first time dealing with Steve’s illnesses, and seeking help only to be told to do things they had already tried weeks ago was infuriating. 

Bucky wasn’t going to let that deter him, however. The city of Manhattan was much larger than their small town, and surely one of their physicians would have a cure or treatment to help Steve. But Bucky’s confidence in their skills had been overly optimistic. One of the physicians he visited was at least able to explain why Steve wasn’t recovering as usual- whatever had caused the illness had also affected his heart. But that was all he could do for Steve; he had no treatment to offer. 

Knowing the issue should have helped Bucky in his quest to help Steve, but when he visited physician after physician, most just sent him away, telling him there was nothing they could do to help. One went as far as to tell Bucky to give up, that his friend was beyond saving, and it took all of his self-control not to punch the doctor in the face. Getting himself arrested would help nothing, and he didn’t exactly have the money spare to bail himself out of jail. 

Nothing, and no one, could convince Bucky to give up his search for a solution that would work. He contacted any and all physicians, doctors, healers, or herbalists he could find; he searched further and further away.

None of them came cheap, and Bucky was forced to work himself ragged at any and all jobs he could find. Without a fancy education the best paying jobs, of course, were the riskiest ones- the jobs no one else was willing to do. But he had no other way to pay for the consultations and potential treatments for Steve- not that any of them had worked yet. 

Now, after several months, he had one last hope of finding help for Steve. There were stories of a witch who lived all the way in Sokovia, and she was rumoured to be an expert when it came to healing plants and herbs. It was a risk to bother travelling to see her, leaving Steve alone to fend for himself while Bucky was gone, especially since it was a long shot that her skills would even be useful, and Steve had strong opinions about Bucky’s search. 

Steve’s anger burned hot enough that he managed to get out of bed for the first time in almost a week. Listening to him rant, Bucky was worried he’d keel over then and there if he got himself any more worked up, but he could be just as stubborn. 

“Well, what do you want me to do then, punk? Just standby and watch you die?”

“No, of course not! But what happens when you get yourself hurt doing these dangerous jobs?” Steve demanded.

“That’s not going to happen. I just. I can’t give up on trying to find some solution to this. Not without trying everything.”

-

His consultation with the ‘scarlet witch’ left him feeling hopeful for the first time in many long months. Even though she had warned him it would not be easy, she had been confident it was possible. 

Bucky would need to find brookweed, which only grew in swamps, and was the only thing that might help Steve. 

The only swamp (or bog, or marsh, or anything like that) Bucky knew of was the one which made up part of the Stark Estate. Walter Stark had a reputation for taking matters into his own hands whenever he found a trespasser on his lands, but Bucky wasn’t going to let the risk deter him. He’d spent far too long searching for an answer for Steve to give up now just because Stark had an itchy trigger finger. 

Steve had tried to talk him out of it, because of course he had. “Working those risky jobs was one thing. But getting yourself shot when, not if, you get caught— I can’t ask you to do that. And for what? Some stupid plant that probably won’t do anything?”

“You’re not asking, I’m telling. There’s nothing to worry about- I’m not gonna get shot.” 

Well, Bucky had been half right, at least. Steve had been right to be worried, but he’d focused on the wrong thing, as it turned out. Something had found him as he searched through the swamp, and it hadn’t been pleased. 

Bucky hadn’t managed to get a good look at whatever it was, but one thing was clear- it wasn’t human. The thing had grabbed him by his left arm when he had reached out to get a better look at a plant he thought might have been brookweed.

It had dragged him along to its lair and tied him to a tree; no matter how much he had struggled he hadn’t been able get free. 

His last thought before he passed out was hoping Steve would somehow be okay without him. 

_ 60 Years Ago _

There was something wrong with his arm. There was something wrong about the entire situation he was in. He was cold. So cold. And wet. But his arm was the worst. It didn’t feel like it was a proper part of him any longer. Trying to remember what had happened to it, all he could come up with was a blank space. He tried to remember where he was,  _ who _ he was, but still nothing. 

He began to panic. 

There was someone coming. He was about to call out, ask for help, but it wasn’t a person. The creature, whatever it was, was grotesque. It was twice the height of a normal man, but where the head should have been on a person there instead were multiple tentacle-like necks. 

“My soldier,” it hissed at him. “Are you ready to comply yet?” 

“Fuck off. What makes you think I’m going to do anything you tell me.” Shouting at the thing may not have been the smartest thing to do, but he had felt a sudden burst of rage at being asked to comply.

The thing just made a thoughtful noise. “It shouldn’t be much longer. You have been here a while, soon you shall be ready to serve with me as your master.”

Bucky had a few choice words to say to that, but when he opened his mouth he could no longer remember what he’d been going to say. 

Where was he?

Who was he…

_? Years Ago _

The soldier startled awake. Normally it was the voice of his master responsible for bringing him up from his hibernation, but his master was not there with him. He had no idea how long he had been asleep for, and he found it difficult to move when he tried. 

There was no sign of what, or who, had woken him. It did not matter. The soldier needed to find his master. With slow, unsteady movements he began to search for his master, but instead he found a man. A trespasser. A  _ threat _ . 

That was the soldier’s purpose. To protect the Hydra. From any and all who would do harm to his master. 

His movements gradually became more coordinated, until he was able to move through the swamp like he was born to it. 

It didn’t take long for the soldier to find the intruder. It was a man, barely old enough to not be called a boy. The man was so skinny it looked like a stiff breeze would knock him over, with blond hair and blue eyes. 

“Oh, thank god. I thought I was gonna be stuck here forever. I got turned around trying to follow the path, then I got my leg trapped under this rock when I slipped. I can’t move it by myself, but it should be possible with both of us working together.”

The soldier said nothing as he approached the intruder. The man’s expression turned from confusion to horror as he stared at the soldier’s left arm. His master had granted the soldier a new arm, which marked him as belonging to the swamp, and to his master specifically. His arm was strong, and allowed him to do his master’s bidding effectively.

“Please don’t hurt me,” the man begged. “I swear I won’t tell anyone about you, whatever you are. Just let me go home to my family.”

The man’s pleas meant nothing to the soldier. All that mattered to him was his master. The soldier placed his left hand over the man’s mouth. 

It was over in a matter of minutes. Drowning didn’t take long. 

There was a sense of unease in the soldier when he thought about the intruder he had taken care of, but he could not place why. No matter. He would inform his master, and if there was anything the soldier needed to know, his master would tell him. All else was not important. 

_ 20 Years Ago _

“Wake, my soldier,” came the instruction, and he did. 

“How can I serve you, my master?” His voice was gravelly with disuse. 

“There is a man. He lives in the house next to our swamp. He plans to destroy our home, by making the land dry, to build something here. This can not happen.” 

The man was a threat to his master, so he could not be allowed to live. The soldier’s mission was clear. 

Travelling beyond the bounds of the swamp was something the soldier had never done before. It was uncomfortably dry. But his master’s safety was more important than the soldier's discomfort, so he ignored it. 

It was a simple matter to slip into the house through an unlocked window, and from there to make his way into the bedroom. The man his master had declared a threat was not alone in his bed, but it made no difference to the soldier. His mission was clear- eliminate the threat, and leave no witnesses. 

His master had made no mention of what was to be done with any other inhabitants of the house, so once he had completed the mission, the soldier slipped out of the house the same way he had entered, leaving no trace. He would inform his master of his success, and then await further instructions. 

_ Current Day _

“Soldier,” his master snapped. “I have a mission for you. There is another trespasser. Follow him, see what he wants. Do not kill him, yet.”

The soldier was confused. He knew better than to question his master’s orders; however, his master explained anyway.

“I want to know why he is here, and if there are others who will follow. Especially if he goes missing. I do not want a repeat of last time.”

The soldier had no knowledge of the ‘last time’ his master was referring to, but it was unimportant. He had his orders- he would investigate this trespasser, and report his findings to his master. 


	3. R1- Supernatural

Tony stared, and the thing stared right back at him. From what Tony could see of it, it was roughly the same size as Tony himself, it had long tangled dark hair, and one arm definitely looked more like it belonged on a tree than a creature. And it was watching him very intently, tracking his movement with its eyes. 

When the creature still hadn’t shown any other reaction to him, Tony realised he’d have to be the one to make the first move. 

“Umm… hi there?” Tony said, and immediately wanted to smack himself. What sort of greeting was that?

“Hello,” the thing rasped. It’s (his?) voice was incredibly croaky, and sounded like it had been a very long time since it had last been used. 

“My name is Tony.”

“Why?” 

“Why is that my name?” Tony asked, and wanted to smack himself. Of course that wasn’t what it was asking.

“Why here?” 

That made more sense for the thing to be asking him. 

“I’m here in the swamp because there’s something I need to find, and the only place it grows is here.” 

“What thing?” The more the creature spoke it became easier to understand. Tony was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t a man-shaped creature, but a creature-shaped man. 

“I was told I need to find brookweed. To cure my heart. You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find it, would you?” Tony asked. 

But instead of answering, or even just nodding or shaking his (at least, Tony was assuming he was male) head, the man all but disappeared with how fast he turned and ran. 

There was no way Rhodey and Pepper would ever believe him if he told them. Which was why he wasn’t going to tell them. They’d either think he’d finally gone mad and stop him from returning, or they would want to see for themselves. Tony doubted his new friend would be open to revealing himself again if he wasn’t alone, and Tony very much wanted to learn more from him. 

-

The soldier could not recall ever feeling so conflicted. He should have been eager for the chance to permanently remove a trespasser from his master’s domain, but he instead found himself grateful that his orders thus far had been to only observe and report back to his master. 

The man- Tony- had spoken to the soldier with no trace of fear. Spoken to him like a person. But the soldier was not a person. Was he?

No.

The soldier needed to return to his master and report what he had learned. His master was not present in the copse of trees it called home. This had the soldier mildly concerned. His master rarely ventured forth from its home because of the risks to it from those who wished to cause harm. The soldier began to search. 

-

Tony honestly couldn’t have said why he returned to the swamp to search for the man again. It wasn’t like they’d had the most scintillating conversation, if a whole six words from the other man even counted as a conversation. 

He felt like an idiot trudging through the swamp again, but at least he’d learned from his past mistakes. To help with keeping his balance he’d made sure to grab a sturdy branch to use like a walking stick, and it had already saved him from falling more than once. 

It took less time to find the man this time, almost like he’d been waiting for Tony. 

“Hey, fancy seeing you here,” Tony greeted. “Do you have a name I can call you? Only, I’ve just been thinking of you as ‘swamp man’ in my head, and that seems rude.”

The man was silent, but Tony had learned to let him answer in his own time. 

“The soldier has no name.”

“Okay,” Tony replied. “I can work with that. Is it okay if I just call you ‘Soldier’ for now? Until you decide on something else?”

Soldier nodded hesitantly. Like he was unused to his opinion being considered.

“I’m hoping you can help me,” Tony said. “There’s a plant I’m looking for. It’s called brookweed. Have you heard of it?”

“The soldier knows,” he said, and then vanished just like last time. 

Tony resisted the urge to bang his head against the nearest tree. At this rate he would never find what he was searching for. It was starting to get late, and he should probably give in for the day and get back to the mansion before Rhodey and Pepper noticed his absence. He’d told them he’d be busy in the workshop, and that he didn’t want to be disturbed, but if he didn’t turn up for dinner there was every chance they would come to search him out anyway. 

-

The soldier knew where the brookweed could be found. It grew close to the master’s home, and the soldier knew that if Tony continued to search for it himself he would find himself attracting the master’s ire. 

Why the soldier wanted to avoid that happening was a mystery to him, but for some reason it felt right to collect a few dozen of the leaves to bring them to Tony. 

He had yet to locate his master, and his concern was growing. But he was also drawn to Tony. He wanted to help Tony. 

He could do both. The soldier would bring the brookweed to Tony, and he would stop visiting the swamp. Then, he would find his master, and his master would have no reason to see Tony as a threat. 


End file.
